Beyond the Mind - District 1
by Amially
Summary: When fear's grasp takes strong hold and begins to extend, its those with strong hearts we should call on as friends. Two author collab following the stories of two tributes from District 1. Co-written with StillYDG'in.


**This is a boring author's note, you don't have to read it if you don't want to, but I suggest you do. **

**This is a collab between me (Amially) and my buddy** _StillYDG'ing_. **All my author's notes will be in bold, and hers will be in italics. **

**We're gonna take turns writing chaps, once the games start I will write from the male Tribute's perspective and she will write from the females. On the chapters before the games, we're just going to write in 3rd person omniscient, so you can get your opinions on the character's personalities and we can crush them with our epic writing talent! :D**

**The first chapter was more of a collaboration, with** _StillYDG'ing_ **writing the base and a little bit of my editing :) **

**We both hope you enjoy and look forward to writing for you! **

The people of District 1 were gathering quickly by the Justice Building, the overflow of individuals collecting in the surrounding park. It was reaping day, a favored holiday of the residents of the District. Mothers and fathers praying their child would be selected to bring pride to their District. Girls and boys were separated, each looking around in anticipation. Who would the two lucky contestants be? One could only pray it was them. They had been bred for this; from the time they could walk the children had been taught to fight. They'd been turned into killing machines, mastering the art of slaughter.

A man with odd green and blue dyed hair chatted with the District mayor, his bright pink eyes boring into the younger women's soft brown ones. He turned to the crowd, flashing a big smile, showing gold studded teeth, waving his exceptionally pale hands. His nails, a perfectly manicured deep purple shade, shone in the sunlight. A couple people waved back, but most ignored him, too engrossed in their own conversations. He stroked his long, curly, moustache that was dyed dark blue with green tips, checking the time. The reaping would start in fifteen minutes.

The crowd couldn't contain their excitement, cheering as the countdown started. People clapped and hollered, yelling at their kids that it was their time to shine. The whole park seemed to be glowing, people smiling, laughing, and jumping up and down. The man with green and blue hair looked at the expectant children, lined up for the reaping, smiling to himself. District 1 _always_ offered them amazing tributes: strong, confident in their abilities, leaders; perfect for the games.

Ten minutes left. The cameras adjusted their lenses, the lighting shifted slightly, and the blue and green haired man added some powder onto his already makeup-caked face.

"Everything ready?" He called up to someone, who gave him a thumbs up, speaking quickly and harshly into a phone. "Good." He sighed, "Everything must be perfect! This is my first year as escort…" He shook himself. Everything would go perfectly.

For three years he had applied to be an escort, filling his resume with lists and lists of strategies he would hand out to his tributes, even giving examples of past tributes that would fit the different techniques perfectly. It was only when he made himself famous by publically sponsoring the winner of last year's game that he had been accepted for the position of District 1 escort.

A loud _gong! _And the cameras started rolling, the harsh lights beamed down on the crowd and the stage. The man strutted over to the microphone, tapping it twice.

"Hello, District 1!" He smiled, and was replied by a chorus of howls and clapping. "Seems everyone is very excited! How wonderful." More cheers. His grin grew bigger.

"Let us begin this year's annual ninety-eighth Hunger Games! I am Bobo, this year's District escort." Some people began chanting his name, clapping and stomping to the infamous Capitol anthem.

"What an excited bunch we have!" He clapped his hands together. "Well, let's get the ball rolling then! We'll start off with the ladies first!" He teetered over to a large glass bowl, filled with little papers. The crowd hushed, the only noise some high pitched whispers. He swirled his hands inside, the crowd leaned in in anticipation, and it seemed everyone was holding their breath. He pulled a piece out, walked back over to the mic, and spoke in a loud, clear voice.

"Penelope Macmillan."

The crowd drew in a large gasp. The girl stepped up, a huge smile on her face. Her long blond, perfectly curled hair, which went past her waist, swayed slightly. Her build was perfect, small, but with muscle, a beautiful curvy hourglass. Her bright blue, gold flecked eyes were wide with excitement. She had been the talk of the town, everyone hoping she would be picked. It was a silent agreement if she had been picked, no one would volunteer. There were even rumors that Penelope's parents had filed for dozens of portions of tesserae in order to raise her chances of being picked. Her full, red lips made her straight teeth look even whiter. She went to climb the steps, waving at the crowd, but her eyes soon hardened, and her hand froze, as someone called out in a high voice:

"I volunteer as tribute!"

The volunteer had raised her hand so quickly she hit the girl behind her, knocking her over. She stepped out of the crowd, a large smirk on her face, ignoring the injured girls' shouts. "I volunteer."

Penelope hissed as the girl walked by, glaring with the eyes of a falcon. She had long, bright blue hair, which was in messy curls. She was much skinnier than Penelope, also much smaller than the tall girl.

The volunteer's eyes were a blue-green, and seemed to challenge Penelope as she moved by her, a devious smile on her face, and she blew a mock kiss to the angry blonde. "Hope you have fun eating grain for the rest of the year, 'Nelly. I hear the tesserae's quite bland."

She stepped up, tossing her blue hair over her shoulder, and skipped up to the microphone. She didn't wait for Bobo to ask her name, just leaned in and said "Mink Denever. I'm seventeen." She laughed, stepping back, waving at the cheering crowd.

"Well Mink, looks like you'll be in the Hunger Games!" Bobo patted her shoulder slightly, feeling disappointed that Penelope wasn't competing. Mink smiled at him, laughing again.

Bobo turned back to the crowd, and Mink's smile stayed, but her eyes were now taking in the throng, unblinking, looking at everyone's faces, which appeared overstuffed compared to her own.

The attention shifted from the rebellious volunteer, as Bobo moved to the boy's bowl. He dipped his hand in deep, shuffling through the tickets, until he picked the golden one and pulled it out. He cleared his throat, and read out the name.

"Johnny Ch-" He didn't even get time to finish the name before someone shouted out "I volunteer!"

A tall, muscular boy stepped out, biting his lip, and calling out again. "I uh, I volunteer. As tribute."

He seemed to tower over all around him. He had thick muscles that were clenched up as if ready for a fight. His buzzed brown hair matched his eyes and freckles that splattered across his face, framing his cleft chin. He lumbered up to the stage and spoke into the microphone, his eyes wide.

"I'm um, Deus- er, Dominus Craft," He nodded, waved a bit, and stepped back, before blinking quickly and moving back up to the microphone. "I'm eighteen." He stepped back again, closing his eyes, his face bright red. Mink's eyes danced with hilarity at the sight of her fellow competitor, a classic, stereotypical, muscle-headed District 1 boy.

"Well, thanks for volunteering, Dominus." Bobo smiled, feeling a bit better about this tribute. He looked much stronger. Bobo pushed the two tributes forward to the microphone.

"Shake hands, you two…" He muttered quickly.

"Oh, right!" Mink giggled loudly, tossing her hair over her shoulder again, and stuck her small hand out, blinking rapidly. Dominus extended his hand, taking a hold of hers. His was so much bigger; it nearly engulfed her whole hand. He was surprised when she squeezed his hand hard, grinning at him.

"Well, goodluck to our tributes, Mink and Dominus! May the odds be ever in your favor!"

"Yes." Mink whispered, still smiling, as Dominus stared blankly at her. "May the odds be ever in _your _favor."

"What'd you say?" Dominus replied, the microphone just picking up the end of his sentence, his brow furrowing, but the escort was already leading the two into the justice building. They were put in separate rooms, the doors closed and locked, not that either would try to escape. After all, they were the lucky volunteers.

Their guests came to say goodbye. Mink's room filled quickly with both friends and strangers, congratulating and hugging her, their eyes wide as they told her their fantasies of her returning and becoming rich and famous. She laughed with them, but wasn't really paying attention, just letting her friends and family babble.

On the other hand, Dominus had one visitor. An older lady; back hunched with arthritis and deep frown lines. Her voice was high and accusing, leaving Dominus with a feeling of dread and regret.

Bobo soon led the young tributes out to the elegant train. They stepped on, both turning and waving to their district, Mink blowing kisses, and Dominus with a small smile on his face, eyes clouded with uncertainty and nerves.

Bobo was halted before getting on the train. District 1's petite mayor stood behind him, eyes dark with anger. "You forgot the anthem."

"What?" Bobo asked, irritated to be stopped before the conclusion of his glory.

"You never played the Capitol anthem, you missed the most important part of the Reaping," The mayor screeched. "Do you know how bad this is going to make me look?"

Bobo shook himself free from her grasp and took a few steps towards the train, a mock-tone escaping his mouth. "Well I'm going to the Capitol right now, I can apologise if it really means that much to you."

The mayor laughed. "Oh Bobo, that's where you're so wrong. You're taking a different route back home, at the Capitol's request."

Guards materialized from the crowd, leading Bobo away, his protest lost in the push and pull of the crowd. The train's door closed, finalizing the transfer of tributes and leaving Bobo out.

Mink and Dominus, unaware of their escort's arrest continued on the train, admiring the luxuries that even they, in District 1, were never allowed to have. The glorious District faded behind them as the train started forward. Paved roads were replaced by deep forests and the promise of change. They were on their way to the Capitol, on their way to brilliance.


End file.
